


All Tied Up

by flecksofpoppy



Series: A Little Faith-verse Companion Pieces [7]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A Little Faith-verse, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Backstory, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Reibert - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1727288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertolt always wears a tie for special occasions. (A Little Faith-verse)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

> So how exactly _did_ that marriage proposal happen?

Reiner walks through the door, exhausted, but happy to be home. Now that he’s a manager at the stockroom, he’s starting to wonder if the minimal amount of extra money is worth the stress of dealing with naive kids all day who just want to mess around with the forklifts.

“Um, Reiner?” Bertolt is sitting there at the kitchen table with his hands folded neatly.

“Hey,” Reiner says with a tired smile, striding over immediately to place an affectionate kiss against the top of Bertolt’s head before raiding the refrigerator for a beer. 

“There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Bertolt says, and Reiner turns in surprise.

If it was something really serious—like someone being dead or losing his job—Bertolt wouldn’t wait, and just tell Reiner immediately. Therefore, Reiner assumes he already knows.

“Oh!” he exclaims, grinning a little and pulling out the other chair to sit across from Bertolt at their miniscule kitchen table. “Okay, so I bet I know what you’re going to say.”

Bertolt’s eyebrows raise, and Reiner just stops talking to admire his face for a moment; he’ll never get over Bertolt’s eyes, the ways his lips are so serious, his long graceful nose, and the gentle curve of his jaw line.

Reiner loves him so much, sometimes it’s frightening; it’s scary to care so much for someone.

“Reiner?”

Reiner realizes he’s been staring at Bertolt for almost a full minute without talking and blinks. “Oh, sorry,” he says, and then smiles.

“Anyway, yeah, so I’ve been thinking about what we talked about,” he says, nodding his head and taking a sip of his beer. “I can’t say I’m not _curious_ about fisting,” he says with a puzzled look, raising his eyebrows, “but, um...” He puts down the beer, and makes a fist, turning his hand and looking at Bertolt with wide eyes. “It’s kind of big.”

“Uh...”

“I mean, if you’re _really_ that into it, I’d try it... well, maybe it’d be better if you did it to me. At least your fingers aren’t so... paw-like,” Reiner rambles, laughing to himself.

“Um, fisting isn’t what I had on my mind.”

Reiner drops his hand and blinks at Bertolt.

“Why are you wearing a tie?” he asks suddenly. He also notes, with a swell of affection, that Bertolt’s finally managed to properly knot the thing after years of Reiner’s instruction. “Do you have an interview or something?”

“Reiner...” Bertolt starts, swallowing hard and looking like he’s about to jump off a cliff. He opens his mouth again, but no words come out, and he’s broken out in a light sweat.

“Are you okay, Bertl? You look pale. And you’re sweating. Do you have a fever?”

Reiner frowns and reaches across the table to press the back of his hand against Bertolt’s forehead; he feels normal, although Bertolt’s body temperature has always been a little higher than most people’s.

Just as Reiner is about to say something else about being ill, Bertolt finally finishes his original statement in a landslide of words.

_“Reinerwillyoumarryme?”_

He heaves a breath and his eyes are huge, staring at Reiner, looking like a deer in the path of an oncoming car.

Reiner just stares at him for a moment, perfectly still, until pushing his chair out; the noise makes Bertolt jump nervously.

“Hold on,” he says, holding up a finger. “Wait. Just wait a second, okay?”

Bertolt looks like he’s going to cry, and Reiner reaches out and pats his hand. “Just trust me,” he says softly.

“Okay,” Bertolt whispers.

Reiner goes into the bedroom, and fishes around in his sock drawer for what he’s been harboring there for at least three months.

When he comes back out, Bertolt has gone completely pale; he’s so white, even his lips look pale, and he’s started chewing on the bottom one.

“Yes,” Reiner says with a smile as he sits back down, and Bertolt lets out a huge, relieved breath and smacks Reiner in the shoulder.

“Way to make me fucking wait, asshole,” he exclaims, uncharacteristically confrontational, but his voice is happy and he’s got tears in his eyes.

“Because,” Reiner replies, smiling uncontrollably, too, as he puts two velvet boxes down on the table, “I was waiting for a good opportunity to use these.”

Bertolt is up out of his chair in a second, and in Reiner’s lap, kissing him desperately. His long limbs make it awkward, and Reiner laughs a little as he kisses back.

“C’mon,” he says softly, hoisting Bertolt into his arms, “you carry the rings.”

“Are you seriously going to carry me... oh my god, you are.”

“I thought you liked how strong I am,” Reiner growls in a low, sultry voice. Unsurprisingly, Bertolt smiles lazily in that way he does when he’s starting to get turned on; it’s taken years for Reiner to get him to relax so quickly.

Reiner carries him right into the bedroom before setting him down gently on their bed—upgraded the year before to a brand new mattress, although the box spring bought with Bertolt’s first raise has stayed—and then sits down next to him.

“You know that day,” he says softly, popping open the box to reveal a very simple gold band, “when we were talking to Jean?”

“Yeah?” Bertolt replies breathlessly, staring at the box.

“And you said that thing about...” Reiner laughs a little, feeling silly, but finishes anyway, “about how he’s not just in love with Marco, but that he wants to marry him? And then I told him he might pass for seventh grade?”

Bertolt starts to laugh, pushing his face against Reiner’s shoulder affectionately. “Yeah?”

“Well,” Reiner says softly, his voice growing more serious, “suddenly, it just... hit me. What the fuck am I doing, not asking you?”

“Reiner...” Bertolt says softly. His voice is openly emotional, as it so rarely is.

“And then, you go and ask me,” Reiner says, pressing a soft kiss against Bertolt’s temple, “and you even wore a tie.”

“I always wear a tie on special occasions.”

“You’ve been wearing that same tie for the last five years, Bertl.”

“It’s a good color.”

“I love you. So, are we both saying yes?”

Bertolt starts to laugh. “Yeah.” His face grows serious, though, when Reiner takes his hand, getting ready to slide the ring onto his finger.

“Are we supposed to... do this in a church or something?”

Reiner looks around the room, and then back at Bertolt. “This room is way more fun than a church,” he says, grinning a little at Bertolt. “Besides,” he adds quietly, cradling Bertolt’s hand in his palm, “this is home. And that’s more important than anything, right?”

He can see Bertolt has a lump in his throat when he just nods, and Reiner slips the ring on. It goes on easily, and it seems he guessed the proper size (which was to simply get the next size down from his own thick fingers).

Bertolt doesn’t need to be asked, and reaches for the other box, snapping it open and slipping the larger ring onto Reiner’s finger.

And that’s that.

Reiner pulls Bertolt down and against him, and they both sigh contentedly.

“Should we have celebratory sex?”

Reiner makes a hesitant noise, and his stomach growls.

Bertolt laughs softly, bringing his arm around to wrap around Reiner’s waist. “Yeah, I’m hungry, too.”

“What’s for dinner?” Reiner asks with great interest, burying his face in Bertolt’s hair.

“Indian food.”

Reiner lets out a moan that sounds very much like they are indeed having celebratory sex.

“Wow, food over sex. We really are married now,” Reiner comments after a moment, and starts to laugh. Bertolt laughs, too, and wraps himself around Reiner as closely as possible.

“I love you so much,” he whispers against Reiner’s chest, and Reiner slides a hand down to stroke across Bertolt’s back.

“Love you too, Bertl,” he says tenderly. “Let’s celebrate properly tomorrow—I’ll even get out the rope.”

“Wait, do I get to choose a wedding gift?”

“I’m not fisting you... not with these hands.” Bertolt makes a disappointed noise, until Reiner adds, “But maybe I’ll let you do it to me.”

Bertolt stays quiet for a moment, but then he pulls back to look up at meet Reiner’s eyes.

“Will you call me Mr. Hoover-Braun when we do it?” he asks with a hopeful gaze. It’s both funny, but then it makes Reiner feel so giddily happy, he doesn’t even know how to express it except to kiss Bertolt twice on the mouth.

“Sure.”

“Are we going to actually hyphenate it?”

“Well,” Reiner says softly, smiling a little and taking Bertolt’s hand, “our names have been on The Box like that for the last four years. Why not make it official? Bring the box out of the closet.”

Bertolt starts to laugh, and then lies down to pull Reiner on top of him.

Regardless of their initial conclusion, dinner is delayed.


End file.
